


think i'm gonna stick with you (till the very end)

by chasingflower



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky Barnes Remembers, Civil War Fix-It, Fix-It, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, a little bit of angst but it's resolved very fast, that movie never happened my friend!!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-03-19
Packaged: 2019-04-04 13:59:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14021793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chasingflower/pseuds/chasingflower
Summary: “I need this destroyed. Or the codes burned out of my brain. I don’t know. Maybe both. Is there a way?” Bucky trails off, and he’s exhausted. He wants to sink into the couch and sleep for three hundred years, but hecan’t, he hasn’t gotten a full night’s sleep in weeks. “I don’t want to be a weapon.”(or: the civil war fix-it that we all deserved to have, just two years late)





	think i'm gonna stick with you (till the very end)

**Author's Note:**

> hello everyone!! i'm back from the dead with another fic - i do hope u all enjoy!! the idea i have may not be the most original, but i still hope it's okay to read <3 <3
> 
> this isn't beta read, so all mistakes are my own

They don’t frame Bucky. He’s still in Bucharest, speaking slowly with a smile and buying plums form the kind vender on the street.

He’s getting better.

His notebooks are getting thicker as the weeks go on.

++

He goes to his apartment, sleep thick on his shoulders, and it’s almost enough to have his gait shift.

He’s wide awake when he sees the book on his pillow case.

He freezes, and his heart picks up, and he feels trapped. He picks it up like it’s a bomb, and puts it in with his other notebooks (the mere idea that they have to be in the same spot is enough to have him run to the bathroom).

He leaves for Avenger’s Tower that night.

++

The world is ending, and Bucky has the key in his bag.

(It’s not, not really, but the anxiety he feels is running up and done his arms like pin pricks, or like someone has injected ice into his veins. It might not be, but it sure fucking feels like it is).

++

He wants to go _home_. It’s an ever powering weight on his chest, behind his eyelids when he blinks, what he sees when he dreams. It’s the most intense longing he’s felt sense the War, way before Captain America and the only thing he really had were the letter from Steve with pictures of the city and the stray cats (“Hey, it’s Tom, Stevie,” “For the last time, we aren’t naming a tom cat Tom, Buck,”), and dogs that they want but can’t afford.

The crux of the matter is that while he’s homesick for a time he can’t go back to, he misses Steve the most.

At least Steve is something he can have.

He hopes.

++

Before he gets inside he’s stopped by a red head with tall heels and perfect curls. He recognizes her instantly.

“Natalia,” he says, and the book in his bag feels like it has suddenly gained 20 pounds.

She doesn’t look like he trusts him, which is good, they shouldn’t, not yet, but he needs to get inside and deal with the codes that can send him back to a machine with no sense of what is moral or not.

“Natalia,” he tries again, and she blinks at him.

She speaks clearly, like cutting ice with every word she says. “It’s Natasha now. What has you coming here now?” and even though her voice is even, there isn’t a hint of malice or coldness present. It sounds like it’s almost nonchalant, but it didn’t quit reach, just a breath away from being what she had intended.

He opens his mouth, trying to parse his speech, determine the best way to say what he’s going to say. “It’s classified,” he tries, and the look on her face says very clearly that it was the wrong answer. “I’ll show you inside,” he attempts a second time, and while she still looks suspicious, she nods and allows him to come inside.

++

He’s sweating, and the book feels like it’s burning him. He takes it out of his bag and shows her.

The look on her face tells him that she knows what it is. “How did you get that?” she says, her surprise evident no matter how well she tries to hide it.

He shrugs. “Planted. It was in my apartment.”

This admission seems to terrify her even more.

“I need this destroyed. Or the codes burned out of my brain. I don’t know. Maybe both. Is there a way?” he trails off, and he’s exhausted. He wants to sink into the couch and sleep for three hundred years, but he _can’t_ , he hasn’t gotten a full night’s sleep in weeks. “I don’t want to be a weapon.”

She purses her lips. “I think I have an idea.”

++

Wanda looks skittish, like Natasha is saying her powers are better than they are, that they aren’t as dangerous as they are.

Bucky gets it.

He smiles at her, faintly, and agrees.

++

The plan is fucking insane. It’s crazy. Bucky wishes for Steve, but he’s busy doing things that are far away to help settle the brewing anger that is occurring. He’s not agreeing to anything, he’s saying his piece, letting them hear his say, and ~~making them~~ hoping they change their minds.

++

He wakes with a pounding headache. He groans, and when he discovers he can’t move his eyes open instantly.

“ _Longing_ ,” Natasha says in prefect Russian, and the sense of dread in his stomach is increasing tenfold.

“ _Rusted_ ,” he keeps his mouth shut as he tries to keep in the scream.

“ _Seventeen_ ,” he tastes blood in his mouth, a sick copper, and bites his cheek harder.

“ _Daybreak_ ,” and he throws his head back, a scream lodged in his throat, eyes pressed shut so tightly he can see stars.

“ _Furnace_ ,” he can feel the soldier in his mind, but he won’t let him come back, he won’t let it –

“ _Nine_ ,” he hears a tear somewhere, and distantly he thinks he must have broken the restraints.

“ _Benign_ ,” his heart is beating too fast, picked up a beat and is stuttering along, and he wants to _die_ , let him die rather than become a weapon –

“ _Homecoming_ ,” her voice is clear, and he thinks he can hear someone grunting in the distance, but he’s beyond carrying, too focused on retaining every part of who he is.

“ _One_ ,” his head feels like it’s coming apart down the center, and he franticly tries to remember anything, anyone, _Steve_.

“ _Freight car_ ,” and he lets out a sob, and heaves forward, scream dying in his throat.

The room is silent except for the heavy breathing of the three in the room.

“Bucky,” Natasha says softly.

He groans and looks up at her with red-rimmed eyes and tears on his cheeks. “Yeah?” and his voice is rough like sandpaper, so he must have been screaming, and he tastes salt in his mouth.

And Wanda sighs in relief and slinks to the floor, rests her head on his knee. Natasha looks at him with a watery grin, full of pride, and gives him a kiss to the cheek.

Bucky feels like he’s going to explode – he’s going to burst into tears again – and only a slight glance would have him erupt.

++

They get him moved out of the room into the common area. He’s sweaty and gross but he feels better with Steve’s sweatshirt on and his sweatpants so he sits on the couch while Wanda braids his hair and whispers encouragements and Natasha’s in the kitchen making hot chocolate for the three of them in what could be seen as an apology.

They start a fire and Bucky watches as the pages are ripped out of the red book and burned to ash in front of his eyes. There’s a movie playing, not that anyone’s paying attention, the trio content with watching the flames lick the paper.

“I think I want it cut,” he says slowly, his voice catching on his throat. It’s still more gravely than he would have liked, but given the circumstances he feels he’ll live with it.

Natasha hums and presses her toes into his leg. “You sure? I like you like this, the whole ‘gruff mountain man’ vibe you’ve got going on.”

Wanda smiles faintly. “Very hipster.” She says softly, trying to contribute but not sure where she’s allowed.

Bucky rolls his eyes at the two. “I know. I like it too. I just think, I don’t know. Need a change?” he swallows, “Maybe it could help with my memories.”

Natasha eyes him carefully. “We could do it now. I’ve cut Clint’s hair before.”

Bucky shakes his head. “No, not now. Maybe later.” He smiles. “Thanks.”

++

“I named the neighborhood cat Tom,” he laughs, eyes bright. “Steve fucking hated it, he’d punch my arm every time I’d say anything. ‘You can’t fucking name a tom cat Tom, you fucker. That’s not how it fucking works,’ he’d say. He’d roll his eyes and groan whenever I spotted that stupid cat. He drew me pictures of the cat in the letters he used to send me, so I don’t think he really minded.”

++

“The worst date I’ve ever been on? God, probably the one with Petunia Kerns from around the block. She simpered the whole time, and didn’t even bring a friend with her, so Steve had to sit with us, like a,”

“A third wheel?” Wanda says with a laugh. “Really?”

Bucky nods, feeling on top of the world. “Oh yeah. It was terrible. She kept trying to go at me when I clearly wasn’t interested, and to make matters worse was that she completely ignored Steve. Like he wasn’t even there. I think I left early, too.” He pauses, trying to remember correctly. “Yeah, we were supposed to go to a movie, but she was being so rude I walked her home and Steve and I went to the movie instead.”

++

“What’s with all the questions on my love life?”

“We’re curious. Steve doesn’t talk.”

He laughs. “The longest relationship with a girl was Dolly McCeath. She was fantastic, let me tell you. Long blonde curls, large blue eyes. She had the faintest smattering of freckles on her nose. She had the funniest sense of humor, and a smile to lighten up the whole block.” He sighed. “We were together for months. I’m not sure why we stopped dating. Maybe we were better suited as friends.”

And that’s a lie, that a filthy, dirty rotten lie. She looked like Steve, so he could imagine he was with him instead, and he remembers coming to the bone-chilling realization that he wasn’t going to marry a girl.

++

 Steve and his friends walk in to see Bucky painting Natasha’s toes a violent purple, and Wanda braiding Bucky’s hair again. The trio is giggling again, the air is lighter than it has been.

Bucky looks up and his heart lurches. Because, see, he thought that he’d be ready for this reunion – to seeing Steve again.

He was wrong – god, he was so fucking wrong, but he doesn’t know if he’s capable of leaving, let alone moving from his spot on the floor. Even so, he somehow manages to say, “Steve?” in a soft, guarded voice.

Steve, for his part, looks completely taken aback. He stares at him, eyes wide, and while his mouth isn’t open, his lips have parted slightly. Bucky thinks that he’s ignoring everyone in the room except for him, and it’s stupid but it’s so fucking _Steve_ , that Bucky’s heart aches. He watches as Steve licks his lips and takes a step forward. “Buck? That you?” and he sounds so goddamn worried that it gets Bucky moving – because god if Bucky doesn’t exist to put Steve at ease, to calm him down, to keep him steady.

“Steve,” he says again, as he stands up from the couch. He’s acutely aware that he’s wearing Steve’s sweatshirt, and it seems like Steve notices too, if the way his eyes darted to his chest then back up to his face says anything. “Steve, it’s me. I’m okay.” He says this, but it gets stuck in his throat on the way out. “They – Wanda and Natasha – they fixed the brainwashing, and got rid of the codes.” He swallows. “Because Hydra put codes, in my brain, to, um, reactivate the Solider if they needed.” He takes in Steve’s look of raw panic, and speaks again, hurrying to explain. “But they fixed it. They’re gone.”

Steve still looks thunderstruck, but somehow manages to say, “And you’re okay?”

It strikes Bucky as a very naïve thing to say, especially for Steve, but then he realizes exactly the kind of life that he’s been living for the past few years, and figures that he can give him a little slack.

“Yeah, Steve,” he says, and he takes a step closer to him, ignoring the stares from everyone else in the room. “I’m just fine.”

Steve makes a little choked off noise, and this is _also_ bizarre – but – _wait_ –

It occurs to Bucky that Steve isn’t aware that he remembers.

“Steve,” he says, but this time his voice cracks. “Steve, I remember.

“I remember everything,” he repeats, voice trembling ever so slightly. “And I don’t know if I even have a chance, or anything, but I remember, and I,” he swallows the lump in his throat and tries to keep speaking. He looks at Steve and see that his eyes are filling up, and fuck, this is going to end with them both in tears, isn’t it? “God, Steve, I still love you, even after everything.”

This seems to be the breaking point for Steve, as he lets out a sob and pulls him into a rough, bone-crushing hug. It’s everything that Bucky’s wanted for seventy years, and he moves so he can pull Steve closer. “God, Buck,” Steve sniffs, and his voice sounds shot to hell. “I’ve never stopped.”

Bucky’s arms tighten around him, and he finally feels like he’s home.

**Author's Note:**

> i appreciate u a whole lot!! my tumblr is @evahmohns


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